Normandy: Words of Life
by geekreader42
Summary: Words paint a picture of life for Shepard's team on and off the Normandy. A series of occasionally connected one-shots for a meme: Pick a character and write a short fic for every letter of the alphabet. Will feature several ME2 characters.
1. Garrus: A is for Arrest

A/N: This started as a Tumblr meme? I think? I read a Dragon Age version and decided that it looked like a fun challenge, but I wanted to do it for Mass Effect. So viola!

The idea is to take a character and do a short fic (they will rage between a few paragraphs to several pages) on each letter of the alphabet. To that I said crank it to 11! and decided to do it for multiple characters. I will keep the characters exclusive to Mass Effect 2 because I, sadly, have never played Mass Effect 1. There will be mentions to ME1 characters and situations because I do know the general story. If I get something wrong though, I apologize.

This first segment will be Garrus.

Disclaimer: This is BioWare's sandbox; I'm just building sand castles.

A is for Arrest

All he had to do was finish the paper work and it would be official. One hundred arrests, one hundred scumbags locked up, one hundred crimes repaid. He would allow himself a drink tonight in celebration.

The pneumatic swish of his door opening pulled him out of his revelry and made him pay attention. Jumping to his feet, he saluted C-Sec Executor Pallin as the older turian approached.

"Executor, I was just finishing the paperwork." He reported.

"Stand down, Garrus." Pallin said with a sigh.

"Sir?"

"He's been released," he pressed a few holographic buttons on his omni-tool and Garrus's screens went blank, "all records of the incident are to be deleted."

"Incident?" Garrus protested. "Sir, he beat a young quarian within an inch of her life. He deserves—"

"It isn't always about what he deserves, Vakarian." The tone of his voice caused Garrus to stand at attention; a reaction trained by years in the turian military before joining Citadel Security. Pallin had him stand that way for several moments before speaking again. "Don't push on this one. You're a promising agent, I'd hate to see your career cut short."

This was wrong. That quarian deserved justice.

As Executor Pallin retreated from the room, Garrus just watched. He would have responded if he could, but it felt as if someone had taken hold of his throat and stopped him from speaking.


	2. Garrus: B is for Bold

A/N: Recap!

The idea is to take a character and do a short fic (they will rage between a few paragraphs to several pages) on each letter of the alphabet.

I will keep the characters exclusive to Mass Effect 2 because I, sadly, have never played Mass Effect 1. There will be mentions to ME1 characters and situations because I do know the general story. Please forgive errors.

This first segment will be Garrus.

Disclaimer: This is BioWare's sandbox; I'm just building sand castles.

B is for Bold

The view through his scope was not pleasant. Nothing had really been pleasant for two years, but now was certainly not when to waste time complaining. Those damn persistent mercs were preparing another assault over the bridge.

He fired the occasional shot when a target was dumb enough to present itself; picking off their numbers little by little like this was frustratingly boring, but he didn't exactly relish the idea of another coordinated onslaught. Something needed to change. Soon.

He pulled himself back into cover with a sigh and wished—not for the first time—that Shepard were here. With her at his back there was nothing that he couldn't face. Not Sovereign, not Saren and his geth, and not a damned space station filled with pissed off mercs.

Brief moment of daydreaming over, he checked the army on the other side of the bridge. The number of freelancers had increased recently; they must be fodder, used to distract him from something else. He looked around trying to see if he could find whatever it was they were preparing.

That's when he saw it. A flash of impossibly red hair. It was gone in an instant, so quick he thought he might be hallucinating. There was only one person he'd ever met with hair that color.

He shook his head to clear it. Shepard was dead. It wasn't her. He went back to his scope and forced himself to focus on the people firing and not look for ghosts.

After taking out a few more freelancers that got too close he started looking over who the mercs had recruited. A lot of them were inexperienced. He did catch a look at one that at least looked like he'd seen action before. Covered in tattoos and a scar on his face, he looked like he did this sort of thing for a living.

He kept his scope on him, but didn't fire. He hadn't made any move of aggression—aside from joining the mercs—and he was curious to see who the scarred man approached and deemed worthy enough to talk to.

Currently he was engaged with a merc in what had to be the purplest armor he'd ever seen. He chuckled a bit, remembering a conversation he'd had with Shepard while perusing the Specter-only equipment offered by the Citadel.

"Hmpf." She'd sighed agitated.

"Something the matter, Commander?" He'd taken a glance at what she had been looking at and didn't find anything wrong with it.

"There's no color."

"Sure there is, Commander," Gunnery Chief Ashley Williams leaned against the counter, "look. Black, light grey, dark grey, charcoal, gun metal… see, lots of options."

Shepard had laughed—the first time he'd heard her do so—and shook her head. "I want real color. Like green or, even better, _purple_. Even Vakarian has some color." She'd nudged him gently.

"Wouldn't purple armor make you more of a target?" He'd asked.

"Spoil my fun, Vakarian." She'd sighed then and went with what Ash had called gun metal.

Ridiculous that a random merc would have something so outrageous. Whomever it was would stick out like a sore thumb in combat. Looking at the scarred man again, he noticed that he was still with the one in the purple armor. She—judging by the curves—had her back to his scope and was leaning against a doorframe, effectively blocking him from scoring a headshot, not that he would at the moment. She was very relaxed; as was the scarred man she was conversing with. They were either very good or very stupid to be that confident.

Eventually he noticed the third member of the group: a salarian, but he didn't wear the eclipse insignia, so he must not be one of Jaroth's. The salarian wandered over to the other two and began talking. Too far away to make out what was begin said, not that it mattered, but it did draw the woman away from the wall.

His breath caught.

"Shepard."

Impossibly red hair pulled back into a complicated twist, just like he remembered, and the bluest eyes he'd ever seen on a human were looking directly at him. She winked. Once. And the three walked away, out of sight.

This shouldn't be possible. She was _dead_! The Normandy had been attacked and she had died. He went to her funeral!

Yet there she was.

Hope flared in his chest. Maybe he could make it out of here afterall. If Shepard was here to help—and the wink implied she was—then those mercs didn't stand a chance.

She was taking her sweet time though. Grinning, he popped in a concussive round and blasted her shield. She responded by giving him the finger and moving behind cover. He did this several times, playing cat and mouse with his dead commander. She certainly wasn't hard to find in her purple armor.

Finally the mercs made their move and sent the freelancers over in a huge wave. Shepard joined them as they began crossing the bridge, her and her team taking out half a dozen men from behind before anyone realized she wasn't on their side.

As casual and uncaring as she'd been before, she was all focus now. It was something he had admired her for when they worked to take out Saren. Glad to see she hadn't changed.

She eventually made her way across the bridge and up the stairs to his lair. She approached cautiously, weapon drawn. She put it away slowly, "Archangel?"

He took a moment to finish off one of the last freelancers before he turned his attention to her. He schooled his features before removing his helmet. It really was her.

_Play it cool Vakarian._ "Shepard." He didn't like the way his voice shook, but he couldn't help it. "I thought you were dead?"

A smile split across her face and she threw her arms open. "Garrus!"

The urge to run over and embrace her was strong, but there were still mercs to deal with. After briefly explaining what he was doing trapped up here, she rubbed her shoulder, "You got me good a few times, by the way."

"What did I tell you about purple armor making you a target?"

"What can I say Garrus?" she grinned at the memory, "Go bold, or go home."


	3. Jack: A is for Arson

A/N: Recap!

The idea is to take a character and do a short fic (they will rage between a few paragraphs to several pages) on each letter of the alphabet.

I will keep the characters exclusive to Mass Effect 2 because I, sadly, have never played Mass Effect 1. There will be mentions to ME1 characters and situations because I do know the general story. Please forgive errors.

This next segment will be Jack. Will jump around a bit between characters from chapter to chapter.

Disclaimer: This is BioWare's sandbox; I'm just building sand castles.

A is for Arson

She watched as the so-called gang fled their burning hideout. Fleeing for their lives, too scared to be angry that someone had found them—not that it had been hard—and set fire to their collective asses.

She'd have been pissed. Invasion of personal space was not something she'd forgive.

Which is why the dilapidated building was on fire. Some of the gang had jumped her and nabbed a pretty sweet take of rightfully stolen loot. She'd killed three of them, but the fourth had split at the first sign of biotic ass kicking. She'd tracked him to the abandoned warehouse and listened to him whine about the loss of his crew while she set up her surprise.

"Pussies." She muttered, disgusted, and threw her cigarette to the ground.


	4. Jack: B is for Babysitting

A/N: Recap!

The idea is to take a character and do a short fic (they will rage between a few paragraphs to several pages) on each letter of the alphabet.

I will keep the characters exclusive to Mass Effect 2 because I, sadly, have never played Mass Effect 1. There will be mentions to ME1 characters and situations because I do know the general story. Please forgive errors.

This next segment will be Jack. Will jump around a bit between characters from chapter to chapter.

Disclaimer: This is BioWare's sandbox; I'm just building sand castles.

B is for Babysitting

She didn't do kids.

Loud, nosey, dirty, smelly kids. The only kids she'd come in contact with were the ones on Praggia, and she'd had to kill those. She looked down at the brat clinging to her leg and was tempted to repeat the experience, but Grunt was watching her and she did not need an angry Krogan.

Protect the children. Shepard had left her as a goddamn babysitter while she took the cheerleader and Vakarian to handle the incoming mercs and their mechs. Protect the children. In case someone gets passed the first line of defense, Shepard left her Team Destructo to guard the kids. Protect the children.

Who the fuck was supposed to protect her from _them_?

"Why are you colored?" the leg attachment asked.

"They're tattoos."

"What's a tattoo?"

"It's complicated."

"Why?"

Annoyed, she glanced away from the kid to look around. Grunt was acting like a jungle gym and had five of them crawling on him. She took a little satisfaction in seeing that seemed to be as lost as she was. Test-tube Krogan apparently weren't as fatherly as the rest of the species.

The kid attached to her leg shook the appendage when she didn't answer right away. She groaned, popped her knuckles, and tried to shake him off. He was surprisingly strong for a little guy. "It just is, kid."

"Why?"

She was at the end of her patience; these kids were entirely too clingy and hyper. Climbing on a giant lizard, bugging her with inane questions, and invading her personal space was _not_ smart. They needed a healthy dose of fear to give them a proper education.

Her biotics flared and the kid detached from her leg amid a swath of blue light. She held him suspended in the air and glared at him. She was about to tell him off when he shrieked. At first she thought she'd actually hurt him, but upon further inspection, she realized he was laughing.

"Jack…" Grunt growled.

She turned; the Krogan had three kids dangling on each arm, one on each leg, and two around his neck. She took a moment to memorize the image, and then focused on the lizard. He didn't seem particularly pleased that she had one of their charges suspended in mid air.

"What? He likes it."

She floated the kid above her head towards the others. He giggled and clapped his hands together excited. Soon the other kids were clamoring that they wanted to fly too. Their high-pitch voices were annoying, so, to shut them up, she added a bit more power and floated them all.

Grunt, finally free from the tiny arms and legs, looked up to admire the blue biotic swarm of children. He grunted, "How much control do you have? They're not going to fall are they?"

"Please. Remember who you're talking to." Jack scoffed. To prove her point, she began moving the kids in a figure eight pattern in the air, much to their squealing delight. She crossed her arms, smug.

"Impressive."

"Hey, they aren't asking stupid questions or climbing on me, I'm happy."

The next thirty minutes were spent juggling children in the air as Grunt watched out for mercs. Just as Jack was starting to get really tired, she noticed a figure in bright purple armor approaching. She'd always thought Shepard had a real set to be walking around in armor like that.

"Jack?"

"Yep?"

"Why are the children floating?"

She shrugged casually. "They like it."

Shepard stood next to her and looked up and the giggling children for a moment in contemplation. Jack saw the commander give her a sideways glance and Jack was more acutely aware of the sweat pouring down her skin under Shepard's gaze.

Shepard stretched her shoulders out and added her own biotics to Jack's. She took the children one by one and set them on the ground gently. Jack was secretly glad for the help; she wouldn't have been as gentle after using so much energy to keep them up there.

Once the kids were safely away and back with their recently rescued parents, Shepard turned to Jack with a smirk. "That was an interesting use of biotic power."

She shrugged. "It shut them up."

"Maybe I should have you do all the babysitting gigs."

Jack flared biotic blue again, "I can shut you up too, you know."

Shepard just laughed.


	5. Jack: C is for Cold

A/N: Recap!

The idea is to take a character and do a short fic (they will rage between a few paragraphs to several pages) on each letter of the alphabet.

I will keep the characters exclusive to Mass Effect 2 because I, sadly, have never played Mass Effect 1. There will be mentions to ME1 characters and situations because I do know the general story. Please forgive errors.

This next segment will be Jack. Will jump around a bit between characters from chapter to chapter.

Disclaimer: This is BioWare's sandbox; I'm just building sand castles.

C is for Cold

Damn mercs!

She was running. Again. Because of damn mercs.

She had a bounty—more than one—on her head and every merc and bounty hunter in the galaxy was after her. This turian was smart… well, smarter, than the others. He used gas instead of bullets and snuck around instead of facing her head on. He'd followed her across the Terminus and back and had finally caught up.

So, she ran.

She made it to a nearby space dock and smuggled herself onto the first easily accessed ship she could find—a small personal transport—as it was preparing to leave. Once it broke orbit and hit the Mass Relay, she crawled out of the cargo cubbyhole and made her way to the pilot. She readied a good biotic smack down and then opened the door.

"Hello Jack." She heard the grin in his voice behind the breather helmet as gas pumped through several small vents right into her face in a sudden burst.

As she fought unconsciousness, the ship dropped out of the relay and she saw a space station in the approaching distance.

"Welcome to Purgatory."

Then it was black and cold.


	6. Garrus: C is for Calibrations

A/N: Recap!

The idea is to take a character and do a short fic (they will rage between a few paragraphs to several pages) on each letter of the alphabet.

I will keep the characters exclusive to Mass Effect 2 because I, sadly, have never played Mass Effect 1. There will be mentions to ME1 characters and situations because I do know the general story. Please forgive errors.

This next segment will be Garrus. Will jump around a bit between characters from chapter to chapter.

Disclaimer: This is BioWare's sandbox; I'm just building sand castles.

C is for Calibrations

"Bosh'tet!"

Garrus' mandibles twitched in amusement. Tali sounded a little out of place when she cursed, especially over the ship's comm. systems. He'd never say as much to the quarian, but it was a shared laugh between himself and Shepard on several occasions.

"Problems Tali?"

"These calibrations have thrown my numbers off. The canon is drawing too much power away from the shields."

"Still?"

"Sorry, Garrus."

He sighed. "Not your fault. Just give me the new estimates, I'll see what I can do."

"Sending them now."

His omni-tool beeped, alerting him to newly received data. He brought it up and read through it quickly. He cursed silently to himself. These were going to take hours.

Only an hour into the new calibrations, the door to the battery opened and Shepard walked in looking excited. "Shepard. Need me for something?" He couldn't figure out why she seemed so excited.

She held up a deck of cards. "Have you got a minute?"

He remembered now. He'd told her that he'd finished with calibrating the Thanix Canon and she'd offered to teach him how to play some old Earth card games in his newly acquired spare time. He'd been excited at the chance to just kick back with Shepard.

But Tali needed him to get those new calibrations done. As much as he wanted to leave them for another time, he had to do his job first.

He looked away because if he watched the smile leave her face, he'd change his mind. "Can it wait for a bit? I'm in the middle of some calibrations."

She did a good job of hiding the sadness of his dismissal off her face, but he heard it in her voice as she bade him farewell.

Once the door was closed, he growled in frustration and brought up the new data.

"I hate calibrations."


	7. Legion: A is for Art

A/N: Recap!

The idea is to take a character and do a short fic (they will rage between a few paragraphs to several pages) on each letter of the alphabet.

I will keep the characters exclusive to Mass Effect 2 because I, sadly, have never played Mass Effect 1. There will be mentions to ME1 characters and situations because I do know the general story. Please forgive errors.

Sorry about not updating for a while. As many of us, I was consumed by ME3. I will avoid spoilers for the time being, but I wanted to post this one in honor of my favorite Geth: Legion.

Disclaimer: This is BioWare's sandbox; I'm just building sand castles.

**A is for Art**

…

Powering on platform

…

System analysis

…

All systems operational

…

Organic presence detected. Identifying

…

"Shepard-Commander."

"Hello Legion. How are you feeling?"

"Our systems are at optimum."

"Excellent." Shepard-Commander smiles.

Running known comparison

…

Shepard-Commander smile indicates probability of potentially damaging situations has increased.

"Are you ready to go planet-side?"

"Mission parameters?"

Shepard-Commander shakes head. "No mission. I want to show you something."

We follow as Shepard-Commander exits the A.I. Core. Creator Tali'Zorah and Kasumi Goto are waiting by the elevator.

"Hello Legion." Creator Tali'Zorah tone indicates discontent.

…

Creator Tali'Zorah is not pleased with out arrival.

"Creator Tali'Zorah does not desire our presence." We state. We want clarification.

"No, Legion. I'm simply worried about how the other gala patrons will react."

"They can suck it up." Shepard-Commander smiles again. "It's my party, I'll invite who I want to."

"Calling it your party doesn't seem entirely accurate." Kasumi Goto pushes the button to summon the elevator.

Shepard-Commander pulls a slip of cardstock from a pocket. "See, Commander Tayla Shepard: Guest of Honor. My party."

…

Party: a social gathering of invited guests, typically involving eating, drinking, and entertainment.

"There will be other organics in attendance."

"Yes." Creator Tali'Zorah nods.

"Our relations with organics in the past have not ended favorably." We gesture to the still present hole.

"I know." Shepard-Commander ushers us into the elevator and pushes the button for the CIC. "But I want you to see this."

'This' was an art gallery.

Paintings and sculptures occupy the walls and displays. We register background conversation of Shepard-Commander and Creator Tali'Zorah assuring guests that we are not hostile, but we are drawn to the art.

Organics shy away as we approach, giving us full view of a painting. It is a vase with yellow and orange flowers.

…

Sunflowers: Earth origin

…

Painter Vincent van Gogh, origin Earth. Painted in Earth year 1888. French title: _Tournesols_

"Beautiful, aren't they." Kasumi Goto has joined us.

We say nothing.

"Come on. There's more further in."

Shepard-Commander, Kasumi Goto, and Creator Tali'Zorah lead us as we explore the gallery. Our companions show us their favorites with great excitement and request our opinions. We only nod in agreement.

We are examining a Creator sculpture when Creator Tali'Zorah asks of us an inquiry, "You've seen most of these before, haven't you Legion."

"Videos and pictures exist of all of these. We have seen these files."

"How do they compare to the originals?" Shepard-Commander gestures to the statue: Michael Angelo's David.

…

"They do not."


	8. Jack: D is for Dark

**A/N:** Recap!

The idea is to take a character and do a short fic (they will rage between a few paragraphs to several pages) on each letter of the alphabet.

I will keep the characters exclusive to Mass Effect 2 because I, sadly, have never played Mass Effect 1. There will be mentions to ME1 characters and situations because I do know the general story. Please forgive errors.

This next segment will be Jack. It's kinda short, but Jack isn't really big on talking anyway, is she.

**Disclaimer:** This is BioWare's sandbox; I'm just building sand castles.

* * *

><p><strong>D is for Dark<strong>

She liked it down here. She had sought the most out of the way spot and had found this hidey-hole beneath engineering.

She could stay out of everyone's way and they could leave her the fuck alone. And if someone decided to visit, she'd see them coming before they saw here. It was isolated and offered some safety.

It was also dark.

In the furthest corner she could hold her hand in front of her face and not see it. Th ink she'd etched into her skin as reminder of everything she'd been through helped to hide her in the dark.

She smiled at the irony.


	9. Garrus: D is for Death

**A/N:** Recap!

The idea is to take a character and do a short fic (they will rage between a few paragraphs to several pages) on each letter of the alphabet.

I will keep the characters exclusive to Mass Effect 2 because I, sadly, have never played Mass Effect 1. There will be mentions to ME1 characters and situations because I do know the general story. Please forgive errors.

This next segment will be Garrus. Will jump around a bit between characters from chapter to chapter.

**Disclaimer:** This is BioWare's sandbox; I'm just building sand castles.

* * *

><p><strong>D is for Death<strong>

Not for the first time that day, Garrus wished he had brought his helmet. The air was thick with the coppery tang of human blood and sickly sweet death. The bodies of mercs and colonists littered the ground.

These colonists had died days ago. Their bloated, desiccated corpses were an assault on his nasal passages. The fresh blood of the mercs, at least, came with the satisfaction of vengeance.

He glanced over at Shepard. She was standing over the body of a young colonist, no more than three. The blood and grime her skin had collected over the past few hours cut a harsh profile of his Commander. She looked to Garrus as how the Spirit of Retribution should: bloody and wrecked.

The surviving colonists arrived then. One woman ran straight for the girl at Shepard's feet, crying out in dismay at the sight of the little broken body. She stood, fury radiating off her, and slapped Commander Shepard hard across the face.

A growl erupted from his throat and he itched to go for his weapon. Shepard gave him a look telling him to be quiet and let her handle the angry mother.

She allowed the woman to yell at her, accuse her of incompetence, and blame her for the death of her child before slapping her again and walking away.

Garrus closed the few feet between himself and Shepard. He found himself wanting to reach for her, to make sure she was okay, but stopped himself. The notion was unbefitting of their superior/subordinate relationship and he dismissed it as weariness.

Instead, he tried to comfort her with words. "I could still shoot her, if you'd like."

He got the small smile he was looking for, but she shook her head. "She was looking for someone to blame so that she wouldn't have to blame herself. I was an easy target."

"It wasn't your fault."

Shepard nodded and sighed. "Losing someone close brings out the worst in people, Garrus. I won't hold it against her."

He didn't have much experience reading human faces, but even he could see the sadness on his friend's face. And she was his friend. He wasn't sure when the dynamic had changed, but he couldn't deny that it had.

"Voice of experience, Commander?"

"Long time ago." She grimaced. And with that, her Commander face was back on and she got down to business. "Let's finish up here." She called to the group. Once she was satisfied that her people were moving, she turned to Garrus and proclaimed, "Virmire is just a relay away and Saren is not getting away this time."

If only a determined word was all it took.

Once they were through the relay, heading away from Virmire, away from the loss and devastation, Garrus went looking for his friend. She had disappeared once getting back onto the Normandy and hadn't come by to see anyone in hours.

He found her beating a punching bag in the cargo hold. He could smell the anguish, the anger, and the coppery scent of human blood mixed in with the sweat drenching her skin and clothes. It was a combination strong enough to almost completely mask the scent that was uniquely Shepard.

As he got closer, he saw that her knuckles were bleeding, but she ignored the blood and the pain and kept pounding the bag, leaving smears of blood with each hit.

"Commander." He called softly, trying to get her to focus on something other than the punching bag.

It worked, though not in the manner he had intended. She whirled around and would have landed a powerful kick to his hip if he hadn't been just the slightest bit faster. She reacted to his block with another vicious swing in his direction. He blocked again and again as she kept coming, but soon his combat instincts overrode his caution and he went on the offensive.

When he gained an advantage, he attempted to pin her down, to get her to stop and talk, but she blasted him with a biotic blast that sent him flying into the punching bag. She got to her feet as he regained his balance and they squared off again.

"Commander!" He barked, trying to get through to her

She launched herself at him with the aid of biotics and he landed hard on the ground; Shepard had him pinned. With a quick move that his father had taught him years ago, Garrus managed to reverse the situation faster than Shepard could block. He pinned both her arms in one large hand and had the other around her neck, but he didn't apply pressure beyond what was necessary to restrain her.

He looked down at his friend as she fought his grip. He wanted her to pay attention and stop fighting. "Shepard, please."

He didn't know if was the use of her name or the fact that some of his own blood decided to drip onto her face at that moment, but she froze. He felt the tension leave her muscles and she stopped fighting. He loosened his grip on her arms and released her neck.

"Garrus?" Recognition filled her eyes swiftly followed by tears.

He released her completely and allowed her to roll out from under him. She sat up and pulled her knees close to her body, wrapping her arms around them, and burying her head.

"I'm so sorry." She looked up at him over the tops of her knees and her voice, when she spoke, was small. "I thought you were…"

When she didn't finish, he supplied an answer. "You thought I was Saren."

She looked away, ashamed.

He stood and offered her a hand up. "Losing someone close brings out the worst in people. I won't hold it against you."

She looked him in the eye then and, after a moment, accepted his help.


End file.
